Archive of Our Own

Felix should’ve known he wasn’t cut out for Cabhru University.

The amount of evidence arguing against it would be enough to dissuade even the most hopeful. Only Felix isn’t the most hopeful, he has a whole other brand of hope that’s basically full-on delusion. He convinces himself that somehow, it doesn’t matter. That the curriculum can’t be nearly as hard as he’s expecting, that the professors will be more than accommodating towards him.

And he’s quite good at convincing himself of those two facts, good enough that he barrels through the orientation events with ease. A meeting with alumni of the school, various icebreaker activities with who were soon to be his peers. A wide smile on his face as he tells them, “I’ll be attending here in the fall.”

He spends more time on the university’s website than doing much else. Too wrapped up in it, too convinced. It’s going to happen, and damn the universe if it doesn’t. It seems to be working out perfectly, and if it wasn’t for the growing irritation of his high school friends, it would be.

The more he fields away invitations to various outings, the more questions and prodding he receives. Even when he admits he’s applied to Cabhru in hopes to get them to back off, the name falls flat, not holding as much significance as he had hoped.

“It’s your last summer,” Wooyoung tells him, leaning on the back of Felix’s desk chair, studying the layout Felix has in front of him; His laptop, the Cabhru student handbook, a textbook on magic, plus various pens and highlighters.

The most interesting object is the textbook. Wooyoung knows that it was a hand-me-down from his mother, and Felix has had it since he was young. Back in grade school he used to lug it around all day to read it during silent reading time, pouring over the words like it was the Holy Grail. Back then, he could barely pronounce half the words in it. By now though, Wooyoung is convinced that he could recite the thing from front to back, so he doesn’t understand why he’s still studying it.

Felix flips a page, taking extra caution with the fragile pages of the textbook. “I don’t have time.”

Wooyoung’s lack of patience gets the better of him and with a mutter and a wave of his hand, the books slam closed, just barely crushing Felix’s hands. It would’ve if not for Felix’s quick reflexes.

“Hey! I lost my place.”

“Just spell them back.”

All Wooyoung receives is a blank stare.

He really doesn’t get why Felix abstains from using magic—almost as if it’s embarrassing or something. It’s a natural part of life. 

He sighs. “Like I said, it’s our last summer. And also our first summer being adults. Do you know how much shit we can do now? Do you know how many avenues have just been opened up to us?”

“Do you know how much studying I have to do?” Felix begins to flick through the pages, looking for where he left off.

“What are you even studying for? Your parents paid the admission, yeah? You’re in. Why should you worry about the entrance exam? Nearly everyone passes it.”

“Still.”

Wooyoung knows he shouldn’t press him any more, knowing how stubborn Felix is, but he wants at least one more night out with his best friend before their lives change forever. “You’ve been pouring over those books for months. There’s no way you’re not passing. Come on, it’s not going to kill you to take a break.”

“Not gonna kill me to keep studying either.”

He huffs, frustrated. He could keep pushing, this time with even snarkier words. But that will only push Felix farther away, something he doesn’t want to do, just in case Felix is ever  able to make time for him.

“Yeah, okay then. I’ll call you later.”

Felix’s response is a lackluster hum.

The second he’s absolutely sure that he’s alone in the room, he slaps a hand against the wall. The noise resounds around the house, but no one calls up to him, used to the sounds of his irritation. White paint chips off, finding a home under his fingernails and revealing a much dirtier shade of white on the wall.

He closes his eyes and tries the spell again. He presses his hand back against the wall.

He can feel something change underneath his palm, and he yanks his hand away with excitement. There’s deep scratches on the wall. He reaches out to touch them, and a corner of one falls away. His hand burns. What is he doing wrong?

“Felix?” His mom appears in the doorway. 

Before she can see the wall, he replaces his hands over the marks. “Yeah?”

“Are you still studying?” She eyes the books.

“Yeah.”

A faint smile appears on her face. “I’m proud of you. You know that, right?”

Felix nods, too focused on the way he can feel the wall crumbling underneath his fingers.

“I know you’re worried about the cost, but we can handle it. It’s worth it. You’re so intent on studying magic… You’re going to do great things with it. It’s okay to take a break though.” She hesitates. “Don’t worry if you’re behind the others. The professors are good. They can work with any weaknesses you have. It won’t matter.”

He wonders if maybe his mom is more perceptive than he gives her credit for. Still, he doubts they can work with whatever this is.

When no response comes from him, she sighs. “Take care of yourself.”

“I know, Mum.”

As soon as she’s gone, he pulls his hand away from the wall. A large gap is revealed, giving way to a view of the wooden frames that make up the interior of the wall. The edges of the hole are blackened. The scent and appearance of smoke is absent though. And his fingers, while warm, aren’t burned at all.

Felix’s only surprise is that it didn’t burn through the whole wall. That’s happened a few times. More than he would like to admit.

He looks back at the books strewn on his desks, and the tattered sheet of paper he’s been taking notes on. If he thinks he could ever graduate from, much less get into this University, he’s a fucking idiot. He doesn’t have magic. This is just going to blow right up in his face.

Cabhru University is the most prestigious academy in the world. Students come from all over the world just to study magic there. Of course, it’s where you go only if you’re serious about it. If you’re content with a vague grasp on magic, Cabhru probably isn’t for you. It’s really only for those who want more, who want to do something with their magic. Powerful things, save lives even.

Magic doesn’t kill. It doesn’t destroy. It’s supposed to be a blessing to make life better. Why it’s making Felix’s life worse is a mystery, one that he ponders as he packs for the trip to South Korea. It’s Cabhru’s only location, and even though his Korean is only mediocre at best, the school promises to be accommodating to students of all backgrounds and languages. 

Maybe he should’ve spent the summer brushing up on that instead, because Korean is actually a pretty simple skill as he’s found. It would’ve been a hell of a lot more productive than spending all those months pouring over books on magic. He’s still unable to get anything to happen, neither on the first try or the hundreds of tries after. (Well not nothing exactly, but nothing Felix is particularly proud of.)

After one of many frustrated screaming sessions into his pillow, he forces himself to reread the first part of the textbook. The part focusing on the balance of magic, the sheer unpredictability of it.. It can’t be forced. And maybe that’s exactly what Felix is doing, so he stops. He waits for it to come to him. There’s a thousand opportunities for it. And yet, by the time the end of August has rolled around, a mere week before the semester starts, he has had zero success.

He lets his parents pay the trip fare, because he doesn’t know how to look them in the face and tell them that their money is going to waste, because he’s hopeless . Always has been.

The week passes much quicker than Felix ever wanted it to, and before he knows it, he’s boarding the plane. His parents and sisters gave their final goodbyes at the security checkpoint and his stomach is still twisted with guilt from it. He knows they’re lying, even if they don’t know that yet. He isn’t going to do well. He isn’t going to pass his classes with flying colors. He isn’t going to be home for winter break. He doesn’t think he’s ever coming back home.

The flight is an overnight one but Felix isn’t lucky enough to sleep through it. Too many noises, even though he has his row of seats all to himself. It’s the people behind and in front of him, both families with young children. They pull on the backs of the seats, screaming for their parents a mere two feet away and cast spells in between every breath they take.

All too often young children are brimming with magic when raised in the right environment. And maybe that’s why Felix hates the kids so much, because they were blessed with that and he wasn’t. So yeah, you could say he’s jealous of a four year old. Whatever helps him sleep at night.

Incheon International Airport is larger than he expects, and he finds himself at a loss for what to do next upon stepping off the plane. Several of the signs (although not all) provide an English translation at the bottom, which is a help. Still though, it’s unfamiliar and it’s almost startling to be walking through a crowd and being able to understand very few of the surrounding conversations.

None of the words he can pick up are of any interest to him so he keeps his head down as he walks to the baggage claim area. All he has to pick up is a small duffel bag, because he didn’t think he would be needing much more. He finds it easily enough, and then he’s off towards the entrance. 

The school offered him an escort to pick him from the airport and take him to campus. Although he resisted it at first, he eventually gave in once he realized that Incheon to Seoul was not exactly walking distance. The driver makes little conversation with him, simply dropping him off in front of campus. He climbs out of the car carefully, just about ready to jump out of his skin.

The campus reaches several stories high, at least for the main building. Though several surrounding buildings are only a few floors, it doesn’t do the slightest to curb their intimidating appearance. The roofs are made of blue slate, curving over the walls and windows to create a sloped look that appears almost whimsical in its twists and turns. The steps leading up to the doors are shiny, almost like glass, and when Felix reaches out to touch the railing, made of the same material, he knows that they certainly are. It’s not entirely see-through though, there’s a distinct white coloring mixed in, swirling around his footsteps and fingertips. 

He thinks the color might actually be moving, but he doesn’t stop in his tracks to make sure, too eager to see what awaits behind the heavy doors. Before he can pull them open, someone else does, from the inside, nearly colliding with him. As quick as Felix steps back, it isn’t quick enough because a bruise still lands cleanly in the middle of his forehead, a matching one forming on the outstretched palm of his hand.

The person responsible for it has halted, and their shoulder holds the door open. Black hair and thin eyes that seem to glare up at Felix. “Sorry,” He squeaks, seeming to fade into the door frame. “Did I hurt you?”

Felix’s bruises speak for themselves.

“Was that me?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Felix admits.

“Ah, shit sorry.” He winces, and presses himself even tighter against the door frame, like he really is intent on disappearing into it. (Is that possible?) “I do that a lot.” His eyes are widened, like he’s just said something he shouldn’t have, and it’s only made more obvious by the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip, ripping the skin apart. Blood is already starting to bead at the surface. “I don’t hurt people. I’m just—like, really clumsy and destructive—”

“It’s okay,” Felix says, and that must be the end of the conversation because the guy is already slipping past him, disappearing into the crowds of people on the sidewalk.

Clumsy? Destructive? If Felix didn’t know any better, he would think that this kid was the same as him. The panic in his eyes struck a sense of familiarity, one he might recognize from hours of staring in his bathroom mirror. He remembers a faint delicacy in the way he grabbed onto the doorframe, almost afraid to grip it too tightly.

He pauses now in the doorway, studying the frame. It’s thick and impossibly solid, something to be expected from as expensive a university as this. Where the guy was leaning though is slightly charred, the edges scraped and blackened. Felix touches the surface carefully, expecting it to be hot to the touch.

It isn’t, it’s stone cold, and he notices the material reshaping under his fingers. He jerks his hand back for fear of damaging it more, or even being blamed for the existing damage, but it isn’t his cause. Within seconds the door frame is in perfect condition and no hint of anything but is visible.

“First time seeing magic work automatically?”

The voice behind him is deep, almost deeper than his own, and he jerks around to see the face it belongs to. It’s an older man, face lined with age. His face is stretched into what might be a smile, and Felix tries to replicate it.

“Yeah,” He says, hoping the man will elaborate on what exactly it is.

He does. “I’m sure you understand that magic is much stronger when shared with others, yes? The presence of so much magic in one area, especially with everyone here only studying more of it can do remarkable things.”

Felix nods. “That’s really… cool.”

“I’ve been teaching here for thirty years and I never get tired of it. Are you a new student?”

“Yes.” 

“Have you taken your entrance exam yet?”

“No, this is my first time on campus.”

“Ah, so I’m guessing you haven’t been set up with a dorm either. We’ll take care of that first. You look like you’ve had a long trip, so the entrance exam can wait until tomorrow.” He gestures towards the desk in the corner of the lobby. “Give them your name and ID Number, they’ll get you figured out.

They do. Two kind women with tired smiles on their faces. By the time Felix has finished his conversation with them, he’s been outfitted with the key to his dorm, a map to the school, another handbook and a school jacket that he drapes over his shoulders.

The dorms are in one of the side buildings and his is on the second floor. Seeing the mattress is a relief after climbing the stairs, even as plain and cheap as it is. Felix sinks into it, casting his gaze around the room. He’s supposed to have a roommate but they’re not here yet.

The emptiness makes for a great opportunity for a nap though, and he falls asleep with the boy from before running through his dreams. 

The same black hair, now matted with blood, fists clenched at his sides. Face twisted into a smirk, the hands now unfolding, reaching out for Felix. The hands grapple at his body, flames licking at his skin and clothes, burning right through him. Then, he intertwines their hands together. 

We’re the same.

The words echo around the empty space and Felix watches as a fire grows over their hands. It swallows them both whole.

Felix awakens with loud gasps, a hand clapped over his mouth. A nightmare. A horrible nightmare. That’s all. That’s all it is.

He doesn’t quite believe it.

There’s a movement to his right and he peeks over. There’s a body in the bed across from him. Presumably his roommate. The clock tells him that it’s just after seven a.m. He climbs out of bed, still just as groggy as last night. The nightmare seems to have overridden the hours of sleep, leaving him with only a headache and a vague fear of fire.

He changes into the only spare clothes he has, a new pair of jeans and a sleeveless shirt. He pulls the Cabru jacket on before heading downstairs. He hopes to get a chance to explore a bit of the campus before the entrance exam commences.

He already knows what’s going to happen at the entrance exam: He’s going to try and he’s going to fail, and he’s going to be told to pack his stuff and head home. It’s inevitable. So he’s going to make the most of the remaining time he has here. 

As he’s crossing the courtyard, he spots familiar black hair. His first thought is that it’s one of his friends from Australia before remembering that he’s not in Australia anymore, this is a whole new country. He squints, realizing exactly why it’s familiar to him.

The boy from yesterday. The door. The boy in his dreams.

He doesn’t know which direction to run—Towards him or away from him. The former is tempting because it may finally lead to answers, the latter equally tempting because he isn’t sure if he wants those answers.

He opts to stare a few seconds, procrastinating before he makes his real decision, and it turns out not to be his decision at all, because the boy spots him first. He seems to have the same dilemma as Felix, before finally giving in and crossing over to him.

“You again,” He says.

“Who are you?”

The question catches him off guard. “Jeongin? Yang Jeongin?” He sounds unsure of his own name. “Why does it matter?”

“Wrong question. What are you?”

Jeongin’s eyebrows furrow. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Yeah you do.” Felix lowers his voice. “The door.”

“What door?” Jeongin splutters. “There’s hundreds of fucking doors around here. The hell is that supposed to mean?”

Felix would spit the words out but he doesn’t know how to. He dances around them for a second longer. “Yesterday. You ran into me. The door to the lobby.”

“I remember the door.” His voice is thick with some emotion Felix can’t quite place.

“You burned the door.” 

Jeongin flinches backwards. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Felix licks his lips, trying again. “You don’t have magic.” What he really means is that he doesn’t have conventional magic, but the message seems to hit home anyway. He can see the panic in Jeongin’s eyes, sensing that the boy is one more badly worded sentence away from leaving Felix in the dust. “Look, I don’t either.”

Just like that, Jeongin seems to deflate. Just for the fire to flare back up in his eyes almost immediately. “Wait,” He questions, “What the hell are you doing at Cabhru then?”

Felix lets out a sort of strangled sigh. “I don’t—I really don’t know.”

“How did you get in?”

“I haven’t yet—I still have to take the entrance exam.”

Jeongin knows what it entails. “How are you expecting to pass?”

“I’m not.”

“So what? You screwed yourself over by millions of won, for nothing?”

“Kind of?”

Jeongin shakes his head. “God, you’re an idiot.” He takes a step back.

“Where are you going?” 

“Out of here, before you burn this entire school to ashes and I get caught up in it.”

“You can’t—You can’t leave—” Felix grabs his shoulder, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. “Whatever happened to solidarity? Is that a—is that a thing?”

“That’s a thing,” Jeongin confirms. “But not between me and fucking idiots. ”

“You’re just going to leave? Never see me ever again?”

“Yeah. Kind of the plan. Kinda doubt anyone is ever going to see you ever again, once they find out what you are.”

“What if they don’t?” Felix pleads. “What if it works out?”

“It won’t.”

“If it does.”

“If it does, I'll buy you lunch. I’ll probably be back here around noon anyway. If by some miracle you’re still alive, name a restaurant and I’ll take you there.”

Cabhru Office
[8:43] Lee Felix, your entrance exam has been scheduled for 9:30 A.M in the auxiliary gym of the main building. You should be able to locate it on your map, but if needed, further assistance is available through the front office. Professor Choi will be administering the exam, and we recommend arriving early, to allow time to prepare.
[8:44] We wish you well and good luck.

It doesn’t leave him much time to explore, not with how he’s already unsure of how to make his way to the main building. He pulls the map out, retracing his steps back to his dorm until he’s able to figure out the quickest path. As classes don’t begin until next week and this week is purely a settling-in period for newcomers, the only people around are freshmen, creating low-density crowds that Felix finds easy to maneuver through.

The auxiliary gym is a surprisingly small room with low-sloping ceilings and even lower doors. He pokes his head in to see a balding man standing over a table. He waves Felix over. “Lee Felix, correct? Sign in here.”

The screen prompts him for his student information and he types it in with shaky hands.

“Good.” The man shuts the computer off and turns. “I’m Professor Choi. I understand you’re here to take the entrance exam. We’ll be starting that promptly.”

All Felix can do is nod.

He steps away from the table. “I’d like you to raise the table. The whole thing please, the computer as well.”

Felix gulps. “Raise?”

“Yes.” Professor Choi seems impatient. He makes a motion of raising his hands. “Lift it up. Off the ground.” After another second of Felix looking at him wide-eyed, he adds, “With magic.”

Yeah, he’s screwed.

Choi snaps his fingers. “Come on, now. Anytime.”

Felix cautiously raises a hand. He mimics how he’s seen other people do it, calling to mind every time someone has cast a spell in front of him. He waves gently, making a “come here” motion at the table, the only thing he can think to do. He ignores how numb his hand feels at the movement.

Professor Choi raises an eyebrow.

Gnawing on his bottom lip, Felix tries again. He tries to imagine lifting the table, holding it under arms, straining his back to do so. 

For the tiniest fraction of a second, he imagines breaking it.

He straightens up, shaking his head to clear the thought. He stretches his hand out and that’s when he’s startled by the sound of a crash.

He zones back into reality to see the table has toppled over, wooden legs bent and splintered, the computer now a mess of shattered glass, wires, and metal.

Professor Choi is crossing the room towards him. “What the fuck have you done?”

Instinctively, Felix is already racing back for the door. “I didn’t do anything.”

He’s too quick though, and his hand wraps around Felix’s neck. “We don’t take kindly to your kind here.”

“My kind?” Felix sputters, the words coming out even despite his rapid loss of oxygen.

“Yes.” His voice hardens. “ Witch .”

Felix vaguely remembers hearing the word in olden fantasy books. The type of word that was used to describe people who could use magic, before it turned out that they were in fact, just regular people. People no longer needed a word for it and it fell away from language.

Evidently not entirely though, and the anger seething through the word proves that it’s still around, just now with an ugly connotation. A connotation to whatever Felix is.

Felix coughs, trying to shove him away. When that fails, he reaches up to the hand around his throat. All attempts to pry it loose fail. Still, he grips tightly to it, even though the hope is draining out of him.

There’s a warmth against his skin then, and the man is yelling, pulling away from Felix in the blink of an eye. His hand is on fire, and all Felix can do is watch as he waves it around desperately. He seems to concentrate, maybe to use magic of his own, but it’s futile.

When the flames start to spread up his arm, Felix is forced to look away. He doesn’t move until the screams die down, and even then it’s in the complete opposite direction. He makes a break for the door, slamming it open. Several students who are passing by look at him curiously, but he heads past them. He tries to slow his steps, because he knows he looks guilty as hell by running, but he needs to get the fuck out of here so the smell of burned flesh will leave his nostrils.

Finally, he pushes open the door to the main building, and the lobby isn’t far off. He pushes through the doors easily, the secretaries paying him no mind. The stairs are a struggle and he stumbles down them blindly, but once he hits the sidewalk he starts running again.

They have to have found the body by now. Every second he wastes is another second they can find him. Still, he risks it to check the time on his phone.

9:56. About two hours until Jeongin said he would meet him. Although he probably won’t now, now that Felix has fucked everything up. He wouldn’t be surprised if Jeongin hears about it before noon and doesn’t come at all.

Still, it’s the only hope he has, so he parks himself in an alleyway near the school, praying to God that by some miracle Jeongin still shows up.

Two hours is a lot of time to waste, and he spends it on his phone, browsing through random videos on the internet. He itches to check the news, see if what he’s done has been made public yet, but he won’t let himself. When he sees 11:56 at the top of his screen, he allows himself to peek out of the alley and survey the people on the street. No sign of Jeongin. He casts a glance back at the alleyway, now noticing a left behind hat on the ground. He ditches his Cabhru jacket, throwing it into a dumpster, and pulls the hat down low on his head to cover his face.

He heads out into the street. He skirts the outside of Cabhru, trying to look everywhere except the actual campus. Finally, there’s a familiar black hair in the crowd and he nearly trips over himself in the race to get to Jeongin.

He grabs at his shoulders with more strength than necessary, nearly sending him toppling. “Hey,” He whispers.

Jeongin screams. “Man, what the fuck? Don’t do that.”

“Sorry. Look, I fucked up.”

“Yeah, I know.” Jeongin’s expression is surprisingly calm. “It’s all over the news.”

Felix pales.

“That’s why I’m here, to get you the fuck out of here before someone sees you.”

“Didn’t you say that you didn’t want to get caught up in this?”

Jeongin shrugs. “Yeah. But I changed my mind.” He jerks a thumb behind him. “Get in the car, let’s go.”

The air conditioner is blasting in the car and the radio is too but Felix doesn’t have the courage to ask Jeongin to turn either of them down. Instead he lets himself bask in the cool air and light tunes, trying to pretend that they aren’t making a getaway from a crime scene.

He wants to ask what restaurant they’re going to, but he knows that that’s clearly off the table, and has been ever since he laid his hands on the professor.

Jeongin pulls over near a block of apartments. He walks ahead of Felix as they enter the lobby, shielding his face from the residents that are hanging out there. He taps buttons on the elevator, ushering Felix inside as they make their way to the 4th floor. “You should be quiet, I don’t know if my roommates are still asleep.”

“You have roommates?” Felix hisses. It’s enough of a miracle that Jeongin is willing to help him out, he doesn’t know if his roommates will be as kind.

“Yeah.” Jeongin unlocks the door to his apartment. “Don’t worry, they’re in the same boat as us.”

Felix steps inside the small living room. “The same boat as in, they don’t have magic or as in they killed someone?”

“The first one. Well actually—” Jeongin stops to remember something. “Minho’s done the second. But don’t ask him about it.”

“How many roommates do you have?”

“Two. Minho and Jisung.” 

He gestures at the couch. “Feel free to crash there. We can figure out better living arrangements later.” He turns back towards the door.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“Work. “ Jeongin pats the bag at his side that Felix never noticed before. “I have a job. Delivering mail. Which is why I’m at Cabhru everyday. I should be back around 3.”

“You’re leaving me with your roommates?”

“Come on, they’re cool. Promise. You’ll get along with them.”

As if to prove his point, a voice sounds behind Felix then.

“Yo, holy shit, Jisung, we got another one.”

He glances behind him to see a boy with short cropped hair peeking out from the hallway. Felix takes a step back, replacing his hand on the doorknob.

The boy steps forward. “Look, it’s just me. I’m Minho. Jeongin’s roommate. He told you about us, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Minho moves over and Felix can now see another person standing there, presumably Jisung.

“Did you really kill a Cabhru professor?” Jisung’s voice is sharp and quick, nearly tripping over his own words.

Minho winces. “Dude.”

“Yeah,” Felix interrupts. “I did.” The words taste weird on his tongue, an admission of guilt, an admission of sin. He shivers.

“Don’t worry, it happens.”

“The fuck do you mean it happens?”

“You know what you are, right?”

Felix tests the word out on his lips: “A witch.”

“Yeah.” The word doesn’t seem to bother Jisung in the slightest, though it makes Minho frown. “You have some fucked up kinda magic. Weird shit. Never been seen in history before. A glitch in the universe. Something that isn’t supposed to exist.”

“Sung, I think you’re making him feel worse.”

“Sorry.” Jisung doesn’t sound sorry. “Look, it’s not a bad thing. Not—Not really. Not if you don’t think of it like that. I, personally, find it really fucking cool.” For visual effect, Jisung then reaches down and takes a pencil off the coffee table, breaking it in half with the slightest of movements.

Minho grabs the pieces from him. “I was using that for a crossword puzzle.”

“Sorry.”

“I still don’t fucking understand.”

“It’s a mistake.”

“I’m not a mistake.”

“In the eyes of magic, yeah, you kind of are.” Minho argues. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Why are you so calm about this?” Felix shouts. “All of you—You’re all taking it in stride and I don’t know how. You aren’t afraid of this?” He takes a step towards Minho. “You don’t hate what you’re capable of?”

He can see Minho’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows and says, “I’ve learned to deal with it.”

“I don’t want to learn how, I want it gone.”

Minho’s breath hitches, tone warping into something strangled. “Well that’s not my problem.” 

“Sorry,” He mutters, though he doubts it’s audible at all. 

Jeongin steps between them. “Felix has had a long day.”

If by long day, Jeongin means murder.

Minho pushes past them, heading back to his own room.

Felix lets his gaze sink to the floor. The carpet is ripped in places. He wonders whether it was a pure accident or a similar situation to the cracks in his walls back home.

Back home.

Fuck , he forgot about back home.

They’ve publicized his name and school ID picture on the news. His family must have seen it. They must hate him. They must hate who he is. 

He should stop to give them the benefit of the doubt and trust that they believe in their own flesh and blood more than any meaningless rumor, but he doesn’t think he can. Not after he got nearly killed over it.

He wants to call his sisters. He’s sure that they’re worried sick. His parents would have turned off the news channels within the first few minutes of the coverage, knowing that seeing their brother labelled as a murderer would be too much for them to bear.

It’s too much for Felix to bear.

He opens his messaging app. The last text from his parents was several days ago. They haven’t bothered to text him. He doesn’t know whether he should be upset or grateful that he’s been spared whatever harsh words they surely have.

There’s a hand on his shoulder. 

Jisung. 

“Sorry,” He says, and Felix doesn’t know which he’s apologizing for—the lack of texts, the entire situation, or some new thing he isn’t even aware of yet.

Still, Felix accepts it.

Lee Felix. Only the newest in the long list of murderers in the news, but there’s something off about it. The evidence isn’t adding up. The body has been burned but there’s no matches or fuel, and mysteriously, it’s also the only thing in the room to have been affected. (With the exception of the furniture, which has been broken beyond repair, but that seems to be due to an entirely different cause.)

As hard as the police force tries to keep the details hush, they begin to slip through into the media anyway. A whisper here, a whisper there, until by the time the 6 o’clock news is airing in every home in South Korea it’s all but confirmed that Lee Felix is a witch.

The newswoman stumbles over the word, shooting a look at whoever is behind the camera as if to confirm that this is, in fact, real. She gives a brief history of the word—Once used to describe people with any kind of magic, though often with a negative connotation. This was only used in a purely fictional context though, and it fell out of use as magic became, well, no longer solely an entity of fiction. Even while hidden in the trenches though, the word took on an even muckier meaning, it’s original connotation of often hinting to someone using magic for evil purposes being multiplied by the thousands.

It’s thrown around in certain circles, the kind that share outlandish conspiracy theories. Because that’s the same vein witches are in, or used to be. Something near unmentionable, lest you risk sounding downright insane to even suggest they could exist. It just doesn’t happen.

Magic is good. Magic is pure, and it’s in every living soul on Earth, and anything in opposition of that fact must be horribly wrong.

The woman rushes through the rest of the details of the story, most notably the fact that Felix still has not been caught, before the scene switches to one of several men scattered around a table.

The one on the far right speaks first, clad in a black suit and red tie. “******* knew those things were real.” A loud buzzer censors the swear word that starts his sentence.

Another one chimes in. “I don’t think so. You can’t tell me that suddenly, oh yeah, by the way, nothing you know about the world is real? Do you actually believe this clickbait junk?”

The third agrees with the second. “Saw articles today about what a catastrophe this must be for him.  Like he’s the victim in all this. Bull—” He manages to cut himself off before uttering the swear. He starts again: “I have no sympathy. If you have that kind of power, maybe you should be struck down.”

Off-screen, a quarrel begins to arise between the producers over whether or not that’s something morally appropriate to say on live national television. Whatever the outcome of it is remains to be found out.

Hwang Hyunjin flicks the television off with a press of the remote. Next to him, Seo Changbin stares at the black screen slack-jawed. Kim Seungmin on the far end, the other side of Changbin, tuned out of the broadcast long ago, earbuds buried deep in his ears, blasting some R&B song at top volume. Finally, the last one of their quartet, Bang Chan, sits on the other side of Hyunjin and is now grappling for the remote.

Four men that Felix would stay the hell away from if he had any sense.

Mom
[8:34] Sung?
Have you been watching the news sweetie?
You live in that area right? Near cabhru?
[8:37] promise me you’ll stay safe.
If you get a bad feeling about anyone, stay far away from them.
I don’t need you getting mixed up in this.
[8:38] your father’s worried sick too

Felix doesn’t mean to snoop through Jisung’s texts. Really. But when he’s woken that morning by a relentless buzzing coming from the coffee table next to him (because he’s still sleeping on the couch, despite Jeongin’s promise to get him a sleeping bag or something), he doesn't know what else to do.

It’s not like he unlocks Jisung’s phone. He just watches the texts appear and disappear on the screen as they’re replaced by new ones. Perhaps he should bring the phone to Jisung, but he doesn’t remember which room is his and he doesn’t want to go stumbling around the apartment waking everyone up.

Even though he’s exactly what Jisung’s mom is worried about, his heart still aches at the texts. The concern. The well-wishes. All noticeably absent from his own right now.

He pulls the phone closer towards him, waiting for another text. It doesn’t come.

Not from Jisung’s mom, that is. Instead, the contact name reads “Chan''.

Chan
[8:48] [1 attachment]
[8:49] look what we did last night
after seeing that bullshit news story
fuck them
I dont feel bad

“What are you doing?”

The phone clatters to the ground and Jisung is quick to snatch it up, checking for cracks in the screen. There are none.

Egged on by Felix’s silence, Jisung repeats, “Like I said, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Who’s Chan?”

“My friend.”

“What is he talking about?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me, since you read it first?”

“What did he do?” Felix pleads. “He called the news bullshit. What does that mean? What side is he on?”

“He’s on ours, dumbass.” Jisung starts typing. “Didn’t I tell you there were others?”

“No!”

“Oh.” Jisung pauses only for a moment. “Sorry. I meant to.”

Felix could shake him right now. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No.” Jisung finally finishes the text. “There’s Chan, Hyunjin, Seungmin and Changbin. They’re all witches. I think they live together too, like us. If they even have a place to live, that is. They might’ve lost the one they had.”

Felix’s eyes are bright. “I want to see them.”

“No.” Jisung shuts him down immediately.

“You’re not my mom.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to get involved with them. They’ve been fighting for years to be recognized as witches, going to insane lengths to do so. Think worse than what you’ve done.”

“You’re involved with them,” Felix points out.

Jisung shakes his head. “Not really. I talk to Chan. I’ve known him for a long time, and I look out for him. He does the same for me, even if it may not seem like it. Whenever he needs anything, I’m more than happy to help out. But I keep my distance.”

“So I can’t even speak to them?”

Jisung’s eyes are steady on his. “You would go running right into them with open arms. And I don’t blame you because of how messed up everything has been, but I’m begging you not to. We can wait out the media. The attention on you will go away eventually. Joining up with them and what they do will only add gas to the fire.”

He pats Felix on the head, almost condescendingly. “I’m not letting this whole city go up in flames because of you. Jeongin said we were going to look out for you. We made a promise. So we’re not breaking it.”

“Look, Jisung I won’t talk to them okay? Promise.” Felix raises his hands in the air. “Just stop treating me like a little kid.”

“Never meant to.”

The hug he’s enveloped in is nice, but Felix might appreciate it a bit more if he hadn’t just lied right to Jisung’s face.

Jisung
[11:47] hey btw where are you

Chan
[12:03] ??
you never ask
What the fuck do you want to know for
we don’t need help

Jisung
[12:05] come on man
Can you trust me
I have to talk to you

Chan
[12:09] ??????????
whatever fine
were not really doing anything anyway
So i guess
[12:11] take a left from the outside of your apartment, keep going until you get to that one park, and then look for the alleyway to the right of it.
We’re somewhere around there
[12:13] at least i think we are

Jisung
[12:14] thanks!

Chan
[12:16] when the fuck have you ever said thanks to me

Felix swears, replacing Jisung’s phone on the coffee table. Chan’s probably on to him. Still, even if he is, he already sent the directions. He rereads them a second time, making sure he’s got them memorized, before pulling on one of the coats that’s hanging over the door. It might be Jisung's, he thinks. He shouldn’t, because it’ll likely just deepen the wedge between them, but he finds that he doesn’t really give a damn. To add on to it, he decides to swipe his scarf as well, bundling it around his neck to hide his face.

With great care, Felix unlocks the door. 

It’s the first time he’s stepped out of the apartment in two days. He vaguely remembers the direction of the elevator and heads there now. In the lobby, no one even pays him a second glance.

The directions are easy to follow. Within twenty minutes he’s approaching the alley. He can see the group from here. He steps with caution, not wanting to scare them off with his footsteps.

The tallest one is the first to notice. He has long black hair that’s slicked back from his face. “You’re not Jisung.” He lifts a hand in warning, as one of the other men throws a hand over his chest, pushing him back.

“You’re—”

“Felix,” He finishes for the man. “Yeah. That Felix.” He adds after a second thought, “Witch.” He doesn’t think he’s ever going to get used to saying that word to describe himself. Still doesn’t feel real.

“What the fuck were you doing with Jisung’s phone?” Another one approaches, broad-shouldered with an Australian accent. 

“I was staying with him.”

“So what the hell are you doing here?” The last one speaks up. He looks the least intimidating, though that isn’t to say that he doesn’t look like he could spit venom at Felix at any moment. He absolutely could.

“Jisung told me to stay away from you guys.” He shrugs. “Figured you couldn’t be that bad.”

“You want to join us?”

“I’m lost in the middle of a city I don’t even know, with the police after me. I shouldn’t even be showing my face. I risked it for this.”

“You should’ve listened to Sung.” Still, the Australian reaches out to shake Felix’s hand. “I’m Chan.” As he rattles off the rest of the names, he motions to the other men. “Seungmin, Changbin, and Hyunjin.”

“So what do you guys do?”

“Break shit.” The laugh that escapes him is sharp. “We got these fucking powers, might as well use ‘em, right?”

Using them is exactly why Felix is here right now, but he doesn’t tell Chan that, instead opting to go along with him. “Yeah. Guess you have a point.” He shoots a smile that he hopes looks like it comes easily, even though it’s a struggle to even move his lips. “So what are you guys doing tonight?”

“Burning the Seoul News building down.”

“What?”

“What they fucking deserve.” Hyunjin speaks now, words clean and sharp, piercing through Felix like a knife. “I’ll fucking show them. Show them what’s real.”

Felix chews on his lip. “That’s illegal.”

“God, since when do you care? You killed someone. We’re not doing that. We know the building is empty. Besides, we’re not burning the whole thing. Just thought some nice wreckage might get the point across.” 

Hyunjin studies him.

“You coming or not? We won’t be mad if you go running back to Jisung.”

And maybe Hyunjin isn’t lying, but the twitch of his nose and raise of his eyebrows hints that they might, at the very least, be the slightest bit annoyed.

“I’m coming.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

With that, he’s left to follow them as they weave through the streets of Seoul. There’s more traffic at night than he expects, though the group doesn’t shy away from them the slightest bit. They pass several people on the sidewalks and Felix gets by without even a second glance at him. The shadows from the night sky and the scarf around the bottom half of his face probably help with that.

The Seoul News building is several stories tall, stretching up towards the sky. Changbin motions for them to go around the side of it, out of view of the street. They follow, watching as Changbin shatters a window pane just from tapping it. The breaking noise startles Felix, hurtling backwards out of instinct.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Hyunjin hisses. “Who cares about a few cuts anyway?”

The window is big enough for all of them to squeeze through and they find themselves in a large, open room that’s like a lobby. A glass table covered in magazines sits in the center, surrounded by couches and chairs that look anything but comfortable.

They don’t have time to test that out though, not when Chan is already heading for the staircase in the nearby hallway.

“Don’t they have security cameras?” Felix asks, pulling the scarf up higher on his face.

“Yeah. That’s why if you see one, you break it.” As if to prove this point, there’s a cracking sound behind them and they turn to see Seungmin staring at a broken camera on the ground. “See, Seungmins got the hang of it.”

Felix pulls his arms around himself, tight, deciding he’ll let the others take care of the cameras.

The hallway they step into shatters on impact. They find a room filled with computers and various screens and controls, likely where footage is edited and monitored before broadcasting. One by one, the monitors break, cracks streaking across them like a twisted smirk.

With a gentle touch Hyunjin sets the desk on fire, charring the metal that it contains and scorching the floor beneath him.

When Felix passes a hand over the flame out of curiosity, he finds that he can’t feel a thing.

He jogs to catch up with Hyunjin who’s already entered the next room, an office, by burning a hole through the keyhole. “Does the magic not affect other witches?”

“Nope.” Hyunjin shakes his head. He rummages through the papers on the desk, stopping to read a few lines. “If it did I probably would’ve killed one of them by now.”

“Huh.”

Hyunjin leaves the papers where they were, exiting the room. As Felix lags behind him, he watches Hyunjin read the names on the signs on the doors. 

“Looking for someone?”

“The guys on the news. You watched it, right?” Felix shakes his head no. “Ah, so they showed these fucking assholes, calling you evil and some shit, so I’m looking for their offices. Gonna break their family pictures at their desks or something. Ruin their stupid paperwork.”

Hyunjin hovers in front of a door. “Found one.”

Once inside, he doesn’t waste any time before the wood of the desk and bookshelves is splintering, holding precariously for a brief moment before giving out and sending everything crashing down to the floor. Hyunjin leans forward to grip the wires of the computer, tearing them out with a gentle tug and exposing the internal circuits in his hand. They break apart into small strands and he sprinkles them onto the mess of books and wooden planks.

He steps back, admiring his handiwork. 

It must not be enough because he sends the walls crumbling, the ceiling caving in, likely damaging whatever rooms are above as well.

“Hyunjin!” Changbin yells from somewhere in the building.

“What?” Hyunjin sneers.

“Get up here. Felix too. We’re on the third floor. The part that you didn’t just send crashing down.”

Upstairs, they find a room with a green screen, where Felix guesses the actual filming takes place. Only the green screen is ripped, distinct scratches forming out the words, WHO’S REAL NOW?

They’re real, Felix realizes, oxygen catching in his lungs.

This is real.

What they’ve just done is real and there’s no going back from it. Even if he himself hasn’t lifted a finger, he still witnessed it. He did nothing to stop it. It feels like it’s affected him somehow, like the energy is throbbing through his veins. It’s in his lungs, in the air he breathes in, and it tastes horrible.

Back at the apartment (which he only managed to find his way back to with the help of Chan and Google Maps), Felix finds that five blankets are not enough to cover his shaking. He considers searching for a sixth but at that point he’s just running the risk of overheating. 

If any time was a good time for what has happened today to catch up with him, it certainly isn’t right now. But the thoughts are chasing anyway and they have Felix cornered. He buries his face into the nearest pillow, inhaling the scent of detergent. With it comes a salty taste, wet and hot, and it takes him longer than it should to realize that tears are streaming down his face.

His throat burns all the way down to his stomach. He buries his face even deeper in the pillow, throwing the blanket over his head as well, because the slim line of moonlight coming from the window is more of an irritant than anything else. The hiccupping noises that he makes echo around the room, through the thin walls, but even slapping a hand over his mouth does little to quiet them.

There’s a scraping sound behind him.

“Felix?”

He doesn’t look over, even when he can hear the creak of a door swinging all the way open. The couch squeaks under the pressure of a new weight. He bites down on his hand, still held over his mouth, to quiet himself but all it does is fucking hurt, which is more than enough cause for a new wave of tears.

“Felix.” The weight shifts, and then it’s on Felix. Against him, rather. “It’s okay.”

A hand finds its way to his face, tilting it away from the pillow. His eyes are squeezed shut but he peeks one open. Even in the dim light he can tell that it’s Jisung.

He buries his head back in the pillow, probably crushing Jisung’s hand under him in the process. His own hand has been removed from his mouth and now it grabs at the blankets next to him. Jisung takes it, rubbing circles on the back of his palm, but Felix is already escaping out of his grip. He finds purchase in Jisung’s shirt collar, bunching the fabric under his fingers. The kneading motion is strong enough to tug Jisung down onto the pillows next to him.

Jisung extracts his hand from under Felix, barely even casting a glance at the drool and tears it’s now covered with. He wipes it sloppily on the cushions and leans closer.

“Felix, you have to breathe.” This time instead of moving his face, he pushes Felix’s entire torso over. This results in a red-faced Felix staring at the ceiling, face contorted and wet. His nose twitches.

“Sorry,” He gets out before dissolving back into a mess. He moves his face to the side again, reaching for the pillow and Jisung pulls him back.

“Come here.” He tugs Felix into him, the boy easy to drag due to his limpness, and it doesn’t take long for a hot wet spot to grow on the collar and shoulder of his t-shirt. He doesn’t mind though, not enough to yank Felix back off him. Felix has seemed to find a sort of comfort in the heat of Jisung and he finally stops struggling. His arms wind around Jisung’s back, holding him closer and Jisung lets him, rubbing circles on Felix’s back with his own hands.

“Do you want to talk about it?’

Felix spits at the ground, tilting his face away.

“You don’t have to.”

“There isn’t anything to talk about.”

“You make a habit of crying yourself to sleep?”

“That would assume I could sleep right now.”

“Seriously. What’s up?”

“...There’s no going back from this, is there?”

Jisung frowns. “Back from where?”

“This.”   Felix gestures vaguely at himself and somehow Jisung gets it.

“I don’t think there was ever going back.” Jisung curls into Felix. He wrinkles his nose and asks, “Why do you smell like smoke?”

Felix ignores the question, burrowing his head into Jisung’s chest.

“Felix.” He sounds more stern. “You look exhausted and dirty. What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jisung spots his phone, still lying on the coffee table from all those hours ago.

“Did you go off with Chan and them?”

The way Felix’s eyes flick away is enough of an answer.

The hand that shakes Felix awake the next morning isn’t Jisung. Actually, the hand shakes Jisung awake as well, both of them groggily blinking up to see Jeongin pulling his hand away.

“Hey,” He starts, holding his phone’s screen out to them. “Not to give you eye strain at eight in the morning, but I kind of need you guys to read this.”

It’s a news article, posted only a few hours prior. Felix recognizes the thumbnail as a shot of the Seoul News building, though it’s made noticeably more difficult by the way a large portion of it has caved in on itself. 

There’s a few more pictures of the damage that seem nothing like they did last night. With the bright light of the new day and the clearness of the camera lens, the wreckage looks awful. Last night bathed in darkness it seemed inevitable, even deserved. 

The recognition in his eyes must show because Jisung is yelling in his ear then, “Did you guys do this? This is what you went off with them for?”

Felix backs away from both him and Jeongin, missing the way that Jeongin swipes to the last image, a clear display of the words etched into the green screen.

“You did this?” Jisung asks again, and even though Jeongin doesn’t seem to know what’s going on he looks a bit wary of Felix at Jisung’s words.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You went with them.”

“Yeah,” He admits. “I didn’t know they were going to do that.”

“Well they did. Now you’re probably on some fucking security footage somewhere. Fuck.”

“Seungmin broke the security cameras.”

“Seungmin… '' Jeongin finally realizes who it is they’re talking about. “Them?”

“He went off with them,” Jisung says. “After I explicitly told him not to.”

“Sorry for being tired of being cooped up in a tiny apartment.”

“Sorry for trying to keep you alive.”

“Look, you were right, okay? They are bad news. I won’t do it again.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’ve already fucked us over.” Jisung takes the phone from Jeongin.

“You guys haven’t done anything,” Felix tries to reason.

“Doesn’t matter. We’re still the same damn thing.”

“I didn’t do anything,” He says again, still fighting it if only it might drop the look of disappointment on their faces. “They would’ve done it without me.”

Jeongin pauses, the look on his face settling into one that’s much more palatable to Felix, calmer. “Okay, maybe that’s true.”

“See?”

“If anything’s his fault, it’s him signing up for Cabhru in the first place.”

Felix groans. 

“Sorry.”

Minho enters the living room, barely casting a second glance at them. Instead, he heads straight for the television remote, flicking the button to bring the screen to life. It’s already set to the news channel, a newscaster in perfect dress and make-up standing in front of the wrecked green screen. Juxtaposed next to it she looks fake, almost plastic, like the faux smile she puts on extends to the rest of her.

“You already saw?” Jeongin asks, receiving only a curt nod from Minho.

He glances over at Felix. “We’re fucked,” He states plainly.

The media hype dies down. As it always does. The buzz around witches dissolves into a small heading on websites, offering up the latest “findings” on them, though they’re always bullshit, at least to Felix and the others. It stops being such a hot topic and dissolves back into the shadows. Back into the taboo, back into something scary. Something unrealistic, even when everyone saw how real it was for themselves.

Chan and his group are fucking pissed. They’re real, they’re not a side note, they’re not a hot topic, they’re real living beings who got the short end of the stick and are dealing with it and being treated like shit for it doesn’t get them anywhere. Sure, what they’ve done with it may be in some cases illegal, but that doesn’t make their entire existence wrong. 

You’d think it would make them a victim. Think at the very least that it can’t get much worse than this.

Only then the magic disappears.

The first shout is from the woman living in the apartment across the hall from Jeongin’s. It’s late in the afternoon and Minho goes to knock on her door cautiously. “Ma’am? You alright?” He calls.

There’s no response but the door is open so he pushes his way inside.

The woman, who Minho knows as Nayeon, stares at her hands in shock, clenching and unclenching her fist. “It’s not working.”

Minho steps closer. “What’s not working?” He glances back over his shoulder. “Do you want me to call—”

“No!” She shrieks. “They’ll—They’ll think I’m a witch.” She flexes her wrist. “I’m not. My magic was working yesterday, but now it’s not, fuck, is there like a power outage, is that even possible—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Minho calms her. “Don’t panic. What were you trying to do?”

She motions at him. “You—Does yours work?”

He freezes. “I don’t—If yours doesn’t then mine probably won’t—”

“Try it!” Nayeon’s frantic now and she clasps his hands in hers.

He can’t. He squeezes back, trying to form words that masquerade their own meaning. “I can’t,” He finally admits.

“You can’t?” She grabs his shoulders instead now. “What do you mean you can’t? For how long? I’m not the only one?”

Minho winces, rooting around for an answer. “A few minutes ago. Right before I came over.”

“Are you—Are you sure? Try again.”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t? You can’t even try?” Her eyes search his.

It seems like an extreme reaction, and it’s jarring to Minho especially, as he can’t empathize with losing something he never got to experience in the first place. But he knows magic’s been around for several decades now, long enough for people to now have grown up with it, never knowing a second of their life without it.

“It doesn’t work.”

She opens her mouth to beg again but she’s silenced by a cracking sound directly underneath them.

Minho pulls her back before she can fall in the hole. She stares at the crater, allowing a view straight down into the next apartment (which thankfully, seems to be empty).

“What did you do?” She grapples at his shoulder, tugging him closer. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.” His face tightens. “What did you do?”

She gapes at him. “I wouldn’t—You can’t think—” Her face crumples. “What if I did?”

He hates the way her face changes, hates the way she looks terrified of herself. But it’s worth it if only for the way her eyes flick away from his.

“Fuck, what do I do?” 

“Accident,” He whispers, standing up. “It was an accident.”

She nods, standing up as well. “Accident.”

If she notices Minho’s shaking she doesn’t say anything, though maybe that’s because of her own shaking.

“I need to go,” He manages to get out and Nayeon nods.

“Thank… you?”

He barely hears it as he returns to the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him. The living room is empty and he calls into the hall, “Guys?”

Still no response.

“You’re not going to like this,” He warns, peeking into Jeongin’s room.

Empty.

Jisung’s room.

Empty. 

“Guys, where are you?”

The bathroom is where he finds them. Felix sits against the wall, head thrown back. Jisung sits on the edge of the bathtub, Jeongin on the counter. There’s a hand over Felix’s face.

“What happened?” 

“Oh—Nothing.” Felix blinks at him. “Migraine.”

“Oh.” The breath Minho lets out is strained. “Fuck, I thought something happened. Fuck. ”

“Nothing happened.” Felix studies his face now, taking in the panic in Minho’s face that’s long settled in. “ Did something happen?”

“Her magic’s gone.”

He neglects the details, only remembering to add them when the confusion is evident on their faces.

“Our neighbor, Nayeon—She yelled. I went to check on her.” He frowns, noticing how they didn’t even notice him exit the apartment. “Her magic isn’t working. She was freaking out. I—Fuck, I broke her floor. She—I convinced her she did it. She thinks she’s a witch now.”

“What do you mean her magic isn’t working?” Jisung sobers up immediately.

“It wasn’t working. She asked me if it was like, a power outage.” Minho tries to laugh it off, only stopping himself when none of them meet his laughs.

“That’s not how it works,” Jeongin says. “It’s supposed to work. It doesn’t just, not work .”

“What do you know about it?”

“I know that that’s not how it works. That’s what anyone knows.”

Minho shrugs, trying to ignore the gravity of the situation. 

“If she had magic before, then she isn’t a witch. So what is she? She’s something else.” He stares at Minho. “What if we’re contagious?”

Felix shuts the idea down immediately. “No way. If that was the case hundreds of people would be witches by now.”

“Maybe it is a power outage,” Jisung says. “Look, it doesn’t concern us. That’s an issue for normal people.”

“I broke her floor.”

“You said she thinks she did it.”

“Yeah.”

“Well then, it’s her problem to deal with.”

“I don’t want her to get in trouble.”

“Do you want to? Because now it’s you or her.”

Minho doesn’t have to answer that.

“Look, don’t worry about it. She probably did something wrong. It doesn’t affect us. Besides, if something worse really was going on, like an outage, it would be all over the news. It would be a huge thing. It’s not.”

The words reassure Minho only the slightest bit.

“Stop worrying.”

He glances at Felix then, eyes shut, likely to block out the overhead light which must irritate his headache. “Sorry.”

Felix blinks at him.

“Sorry,” He says again, exiting the bathroom in search of his laptop. A few minutes of googling tells him that no other unusual cases of magic disappearing have arisen. Nothing has happened.

This was probably just a fluke. Her magic will probably come back and then she can fix her own damn floor and it will be like nothing ever happened and they’ll forget about it.

Until it happens again.

This time they find out through Jisung’s brother, Younghyun, frantically calling him at 1:42 a.m. Half-asleep, they huddle around the phone, straining to make out the words leaving his lips faster than any of them can comprehend.

“It’s gone.”

“What do you mean it’s gone? What’s it?” Jisung asks, rubbing at his eyes.

“The magic.”

They all freeze, remembering Minho’s words from only a few days ago.

“It’s gone,” Younghyun continues, and there’s the dull sound of maybe his fist hitting the wall. “It’s gone. I’ve been talking to everyone I know in this fucking city and it’s gone. I noticed it when ours was, me and Mom’s, and so I started asking around. It’s gone.”

“What?”

Younghyun’s voice darkens. “Are you even listening to me, Jisung? It’s gone. What about your magic? Does it still work?”

Jisung chews on his lips, denting the soft flesh with every word that exits Younghyun’s mouth. “Well, uh, you know I don’t use it that much.”

Younghyun groans. “Yeah, you’ve been saying that since you were twelve. Use it now. Tell me if yours works.”

Jisung shoots a glance around him, at Jeongin, Felix and Minho. “It—It doesn’t.” He lets fake panic seep into his voice, saturating the words with lies. “Fuck, Younghyun, why isn’t it working?”

“I don’t know!” Younghyun sounds panicked. “Fuck.”

“Is it completely gone?” It doesn’t take long for the panic to become real. “Is all of it gone?”

“I don’t think so? It’s like… I’ve only really seen people in Korea talking about it. Like it’s exclusive to here. Not—Not even all of Korea. Seoul. Our entire block.”

Younghyun still lives with their parents, in a small house on the outskirts of Seoul. A pretty close distance to Jeongin’s apartment.

“Younghyun—Can I call you back?”

Jisung ends the call, tossing the phone against a wall.

“Fuck.”

“What does it matter?” Felix shrugs, letting his eyes rise to meet Jisung’s. “Now everyone’s like us.”

“We don’t want everyone to be like us.”

Ignoring Jisung’s words, Felix gets up to retrieve the phone from the floor. Cautiously, he holds out the shattered pieces of hardware to them.

“Did you… mean to do that?”

“No.” Jisung snatches it from him, feeling the phone fall apart even more in his hands. “Fuck. Fuck .”

“We’ll get you a new phone.”

“That’s not the point, Jeongin.” The look Jisung shoots him could kill, and maybe if their magic was any stronger, it would.

But Jeongin doesn’t want to think about that.

Jisung continues and his eyes finally move away from Jeongin, focusing instead on the wall. “It isn’t supposed to work like that. I’m supposed to be able to control it. We’re supposed to be able to control it.”

As if on cue, the coaster holding Felix’s cup of water shatters, sending the glass onto the floor, getting both the rug and his socks wet.

Felix raises his hands in surrender. “I wasn’t touching it!”

Silence.

“Let’s go back to bed,” Minho mutters, getting up from the couch and stalking back to his room.

The morning greets them with horror in the form of an explosion on social media. The loss of magic is spreading through Asia and it’s haunting; the way that something that had been virtually invisible and out of reach to all of them, sucks the life out of them. It overshadows any talk of witches, even though there are a few wondering if the witches have lost theirs as well.

But they haven’t, quite the opposite—It’s grown stronger.

The wallpaper is peeling at the edges of the walls and even though they can all see it and they know the others do, none of them have the words to speak about it, as if it will bring it into existence.

Felix can’t sleep, though maybe that’s less to do with what’s going on and more to do with the fact that he’s still sleeping on a fucking couch.

(Sorry, Jeongin apologizes every morning, but no new sleeping arrangements ever get made.)

It’s a relatively quiet way of living, at least until there’s a knock on their door. The first one is relatively quiet and soft but then it’s followed by several others that are more of a bang.

Jeongin pulls the door open to reveal Chan and his entourage. He motions them inside wordlessly, already guessing what they’re here for.

“It’s us,” Hyunjin says breathlessly, taking great care to step around the furniture so he doesn’t touch anything—though none of them understand exactly why.

“What’s us?” Jisung takes in the way that Chan’s hair is matted with debris and dust, the rips traveling up Changbin’s pant legs and the slash through Changbin’s shirt. “Where have you guys been?”

“Listen this request is going to sound insanely stupid considering what I have to say next, but can we stay here?” Chan looks at them, pleading.

“There’s nowhere to sleep.” Jisung shoots a look at Felix. “Unless Felix is willing to let four more people squeeze into the couch with him—” Felix shakes his head frantically. “— then you’re going to have to sleep on the floor.”

“You’re not going to be able to sleep after you hear this,” Changbin warns.

“Then tell us. Fuck. Stop beating around the bush.”

“It’s us,” Hyunjin says again. “The—The loss of magic,” He stutters. “The way your apartment is ripping itself to shreds—and don’t deny it, I could tell even from standing outside your door, it’s fucking bad—it’s us.”

“How?” Jisung knows he should be angrier, maybe even horrified but he isn’t, instead it’s clouded with confusion.

“We’re too strong,” Seungmin intervenes, likely because he’s calmer than Hyunjin, easier to communicate with them, but there’s still a distinct horror in his eyes. “We’re getting stronger. Especially, ah, together.”

Minho steps back. “We’re stronger by being together?”

“That’s the general hypothesis we came up with…”

“Then why the fuck are you here?” Minho makes a flicking motion at them. “Get the hell out.”

“You could have called us,” Jisung says, trying to steady his own breathing. “Why are you all here? If it makes things worse… then isn’t all eight of us in one space y’know… dangerous?”

“What if that’s the point?”

“What are you, like suicidal or—”

“What if we’re supposed to be together?” Changbin takes a step forward, resulting in all four of the men residing at the apartment taking a step back. As if they’re the ones in danger, even when they know deep down they’re the farthest from it.

“What you’re supposed to be, is a million miles away from us,” Jisung says. “If you’re telling the truth.”

“And what’s that going to do? The magic’s already gone—You realize that was us, right? What else could it be? It’s spreading outward from Korea. From us . It’s like we’re sucking it up.”

Felix doesn’t even realize he’s speaking out loud but he adds, “Like a void.”

“Like a void,” Chan repeats. “We’re a void. We’re the void.”

“You’re insane. You’re being inconsistent as hell right now. It’s dangerous for us to be together, so dangerous we’re sucking up all the magic, but guess what? You’re here. You’re still here, and it doesn’t look like you’re leaving anytime soon. We’re not leaving anytime soon. So you’re lying about something.”

“We’re here because we don’t know what the fuck to do.”

“So you’re just going to risk everything like that?”

As if on cue, Minho can feel the floor giving out from under him, the floorboards breaking under his weight. He steps to the side, though not quick enough to avoid a small slip. Jeongin catches him.

“Thanks,” He mutters, dusting himself off. He glares at Changbin.

“What, you think that’s our fault? Trust me, what we’re causing is much worse.”

“What are we causing? I need you guys to stop talking in circles like you’re trying to scare the shit out of us. Look, okay—we’re fucking terrified.” And they are, it showing clearly on their faces. “Now explain. Explain why you know this, too, because we’re lost. ”

“The world’s going to end.”

They could hear a pin drop in the silence that follows that statement. They don’t though—What they do hear is the sound of the ceiling caving in.

And then they feel it.

The first creak puts them on edge but Felix is the only one with the foresight to duck to the ground. And maybe that would have been helpful if it was a fire. Or an earthquake, or really any disaster except for this.

It doesn’t help the debris that falls.

It knocks them all back and they find themselves in a pile of debris, staring up at the wooden beams that have now been revealed. It’s not heavy enough to gravely injure them, but Seungmin can already feel a bruise or two (or maybe fifteen) starting, plus a small cut on the outside of his arm.

In a split second moment of genius, Chan reaches out to touch the debris. Almost instantly, it catches flames. The fire misses all of them, conveniently skirting harmlessly across their skin and even though some of them already knew they were immune to the others’ magic, it’s still a shock to the others. Namely Jisung who stares open-mouthed at Chan.

Chan doesn’t have time to grace him with an answer though, not when the wooden beams emit a creak as well. He stands up the best he can, which isn’t very well at all, staggering towards the door. “We have to get the hell out.”

It’s a feat that takes longer than it should.

They trudge into the hallway with minimal more damage, each wincing at the loud crash that emits the second the last of them, Minho, exits.

Jeongin shuts the door behind them, not allowing himself or the others to see what’s become. Because he knows it’s worse than just debris on the carpet now, and he knows it’s only going to get worse. They’re going to get worse.

Maybe they shouldn’t have spent so long arguing. 

Maybe they were fucked either way.

Outside, the ground breaks underneath their feet, leaving small cracks that travel up the sidewalk. There’s black smoke emanating from them, clouding the eight of them. It’s not particularly dangerous, nor large, but it’s a definite sign of something. Something following them.

“We need to split up,” Minho announces as a particularly ugly break forms underneath his left sneaker. “Maybe slow it down somehow. Something. Anything. Just to get it to stop. ”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “There’s no stopping it. It’s already started.”

“You don’t know that!” Minho yells. “What was the point in telling us we were worse off together and then not letting us split up?”

“We didn’t think it through very well, okay? I didn’t expect it to get this bad.”

Thunder cracks above them. It’s only now that they notice the clouds are grey, either heavy with rain or they’re smoke, similar to the smoke still seeping from underneath their feet.

Jeongin looks like he’s about to cry.

“We’re the ones doing this?”

The lightning striking the apartment complex behind them answers the question.

They run then, and none of them can quite place why—or what it is that they’re running from.

Ask Changbin or Jisung and they’ll tell you that they’re running from the lightning, running out of danger. Ask Minho or Felix and they’ll tell you that they’re running to hide before someone puts two and two together and realizes what’s happening. Ask Chan, Hyunjin or Seungmin and they’ll tell you that they’re running because everyone else is.

Ask Jeongin and he’s crying too hard to be able to even formulate a thought.

At some point they stop running, finding themselves near the river. Cracks in the ground still follow them but they seem to have slowed down, becoming shallower and shallower the more they walk. Hyunjin turns to find Jeongin, locating him just by the sound of his tears.

“Jeongin—Jeongin… You have to breathe.”

Hyunjin tugs him into a hug, ignoring how his own fingers are trembling. Jeongin claws at his back, maybe to pull Hyunjin in even closer, or maybe to shove him away—Hyunjin doesn’t know. Doesn’t know anything, except that if he lets go of Jeongin, he’s terrified the only thing destroyed will be himself.

Jeongin is full-on sobbing against him, tears staining the front of their shirts. Hyunjin wishes that he had normal magic, had a normal life. He’s seen people snap their fingers and immediately a stain is gone.

If he snapped his fingers right now, he would surely cause a crater in the earth.

“I don’t want to destroy,” Jeongin wails against him, and it breaks Hyunjin’s heart, it shatters it. Their lives have been marred with destruction but it’s the little breaks like these that truly cause hell. “I don’t want to hurt people. I can’t hurt people.”

Hyunjin doesn’t state the obvious. That he can. That they all have, to different degrees. They can do it, and they’re powerless to stop it, because all they can do is break things apart with no way of repair.

What Jeongin wants has fuck all meaning.

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if he is kicking and screaming the whole way: They’re going to destroy the world.

They might already have.

They could go home. They could try to fix what’s left of the apartment.

The sun sets at some point while they’re staring dumbstruck at the river, trying to decide exactly where they go from here.

The warmth of the star melting into the cool blue tones of the water gives them their answer.

They go home.

The apartment isn’t as wrecked as they remember.

They shuffle inside, none of them looking directly at the hole above them. The interior of the ceiling has been exposed. The crash from before turns out to have been the couch thrown against the side of the wall, resulting in a large dent in the plaster of the wall and splintered wood in pieces on the ground.

“Good news, Felix,” Minho says, cracking a bitter smile as he shuts the door behind them and steps around the wood pieces. “You’re not sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Jeongin finally drags the sleeping bags he’s been promising Felix out of the closet now that he’s pretty much forced to, what with the way that Changbin, Chan, Hyunjin and Seungmin now also need a place to sleep.

The polyester of them burns up halfway through the night and the five of them all wake at the same time, casting a disappointed glance at each other.

Disappointed, but not surprised in the slightest.

They sleep bare on the floor and the next time they wake Minho is standing over them.

“What the fuck?”

Felix doesn’t bother explaining, simply holding his eye contact.  “Did you sleep well?” He asks. “Or did your bed too…” He waves his hand at the ground.

“Nope.” Minho chews on his lips. “I got thrown against the wall though.”

“What?” 

“Woke up to find my bed floating. Didn’t go so well from there.” The bruise that’s already starting on his forehead is yellow and looks painful.

Minho makes breakfast then, or at least a meal that kind of resembles it. The water turns to ice when he turns the faucet on and the floor squeaks under his feet with every step, but eventually they all have a plate in front of them.

Chan finishes eating first.

“So what do we do now?”

“The dishes,” Jisung deadpans, already heading to the sink. He finds that once again it freezes under his touch. “Or maybe not.”

“Go back to sleep,” Hyunjin suggests. “I would hardly consider last night a good rest.”

“This one won’t be either,” Changbin argues.

Minho knocks his fist against the countertop, hoping to draw their attention. And he does—along with a crack in the counter, the granite splitting right underneath their hands.

He winces. “Oops. Anyway, we need to talk about this.” He drums his knuckles against the crack, serving only to deepen it further. “We can’t just keep living here and pretending nothing’s going on.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Hyunjin bursts out. “It’s not like there’s anything we can do.” He swallows. “The world’s ending. Nothing we can do about it. Might as well just sit here as it gives out from under us.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Minho hisses. “If we’re responsible for it—for this—” As if to prove his point, a knife flies across the room, landing cleanly in the wall. “—there has to be a way to stop it.”

The words go unnoticed by the group whose attention is now focused on the knife. 

“That could have killed us,” Seungmin notes.

“Yeah but it didn’t .” Jisung brings the attention back to Minho. “Anyway, how are we supposed to stop it? All we can do is like, ruin stuff. Destroy it. How’s that going to help us, if we’re the ones responsible?”

The answer lies on their tongues but none of them dare to say it.

The apartment complex burns down. There’s plenty of warning beforehand, enough time not only for them to escape but for the other residents to escape as well. 

Faulty wiring, they’re told, but that doesn’t explain why an issue as simple as electrical is impossible to put out and the reason the building burns down right in front of them.

There’s nothing left for them in the apartment anyway so for the second time in recent days, they run from it.

The black smoke once again seeps through the ground, swirling around them in strange ways. It’s thicker and it seeps into their lungs, making them cough.

When they come to a stop, Hyunjin lets his fingers linger on a rosebush, barely tracing over a petal before the entire bush ignites. 

Sparks fly as the flames run up the foliage, illuminating not only the trees but the grass under their feet as well. Though to them it only registers as a faint warming sensation underneath their toes.

Jisung grabs his wrist, yanking him away. “Don’t touch anything,” He hisses, and in the light of the fire behind him he looks powerful . The scorch mark on Hyunjin’s sleeve only proves that.

Hyunjin grabs his hand then, palm warm from the heat of the fire. He squeezes around Jisung’s fingers. “Grab my hand,” He tells Chan, who complies instantly. Within minutes, they’re standing in a circle, surrounded by the flames bearing down on them.

“Kill it,” He hisses, grip tightening hard enough that Jisung’s face scrunches up. 

Felix is shaking. “Kill what?”

“Kill it. Inside us. Kill it.”

“Won’t that kill us?”

Hyunjin’s eyes plead with his. “Just do it.”

One by one, their eyes flutter shut, concentrating all their energy into their linked hands.

It’s pretty, Hyunjin decides, the way that the sky changes colors so quickly. Like a lightshow, like a really fucked lightshow.

The smoke clears, transforming the clouds from a soft grey to a warm orange then to a blue shade that reminds him of cotton candy before finally settling on a pink color, the hue deepening the longer they sit there.

When he looks back up again it’s a bloody red, swirls of black curving around the puffs of the clouds.

Across from him, as they’re still standing in their crooked circle, Seungmin decides that it’s fucked, that they’re fucked, that it’s fucked that Hyunjin can find anything the least bit pretty about this whole thing.

Jisung, oblivious to the both of them, decides that he’s fucking hungry . And that maybe it is pretty the way the void swirls around them, entangling them in strands of black as it pulls them in.

Maybe it’s pretty the way the void becomes them, and they start to realize what they’ve been all along.

A witch.

A black hole.

There's blackness, a definite shadow coating the area all around them. They don't know how long it stretches for, what it's made of, what they're even standing on. 

But it's here. And so are they.

Minho raises a hand silently, testing the waters. There’s an energy coursing through his veins, something akin to lightning kissing his fingertips. The blackness shifts, revealing an array of colors, all swirling together and meshing into various shapes that he can only just begin to make out.

Hyunjin grabs his hand and heat surrounds them, warming them.

"It's gone," Felix whispers. He jerks his hand a few times, mouthing to himself in an attempt to do something, anything, but the ground stays still.

The grass brushes against his ankles softly in the wind, strands singed and crisp against his flesh.

"The magic's gone. Not only theirs, but ours."

"We killed it," Jisung declares, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

What else did they kill?

Maybe there wasn't anything to kill. Maybe it's not killing if it’s been destined to be dead since the very beginning. Magic wasn't supposed to be a thing. Unchecked and without consequences, it was ruining people. 

Really, all they did was fix things. Set things back in order. Maybe there was a simpler way but this is how it ended up.

The gravel crunches under Felix's feet. He flexes his fingertips, remembers killing a man with them.

He can't do that now. Neither can any of them.

But now no one can have the moral high ground.

They killed it.

So they could live.

The sky above them turns back to blue, a light, almost faded into a grey kind of blue. A normal blue, a normal sky even, save for the lack of clouds.

Normal. 

Their surroundings fade back around them, spiraling the world into color until it coalesces into the center, into where they're standing, bringing color into them. They never noticed how faded they were before but it's hard not to now, hard to miss the way Jeongin's nose turns pink and the tips of his ears do too, the bright blonde that is Felix's hair.

With the exception of the burned up foliage around them, it's hard to believe anything ever happened.

The sun comes into view, beating down on them with a heat that makes Hyunjin's hair stick to the back of his neck.

Then he feels the stickiness on his hand too, as another slips into his own. Changbin's.

"It's just us."

Behind them, a car drives by. It speeds along the road, followed by a honking noise. A few others follow it before a fire truck pulls onto the street, parking on the side of the road. A woman jumps out of it, running towards them. Her eyes search theirs desperately. “You guys okay?” Her gaze moves to the fire, still crackling behind them, even though it’s starting to die down.

Behind her, they can see the shadow of someone crossing the street.

Someone alive .

There's life.

There's life breathed into every corner of the street. Real life, organic life, not the type of shit that you have to force from yourself.

They haven’t killed anyone. Haven’t killed themselves. It’s not that bad. Not nearly as bad as they feared. Fuck, compared to their worst nightmares, this is barely a scratch. Barely a dent in the large city that is Seoul.

Minho can see the path of cracks that their footsteps left but even those are faded. He doubts they'll leave completely, doubts magic has been entirely erased. The remnants of it must be left behind, because there wouldn't be much of a world without them. The way it’s become weaved into reality is so tangled that it would be impossible to completely separate the two.

"Are you... Are you sure it's gone?" Jeongin stands back, hesitating.

Minho takes a rose from the bush, wincing when the thorns prick into him. He squeezes it anyway though, concentrating all his energy into it.

The rose is perfectly still and whole in his hand.

It even seems to shine, though maybe they all collectively hallucinate that.

Minho drops it to the ground and it seems to flutter as it falls. It hits the ground gently, not even a petal out of place.

"It's gone."

And there's downsides to this, they know there must be. They know that it's going to be a struggle for everyone else, that people who have functioned on magic will be at a loss for it and will miss it terribly. There's grief to come, there's pain to come, and even if it won't affect them firsthand, there's still a bit of longing for something they've never experienced and now never will.

But it doesn't compare to the serenity blossoming deep within them.

They won't hurt anyone ever again.

They won't hurt ever again.